The Marionette
by n i g h t s t a r d u s t
Summary: She was slight, elegant, capable of black or white. He preferred to stay in that gray area between the two, knowing perfectly well the agony of choosing, of options. And sometimes it was like there was a mastermind behind it all, controlling them, pulling at countless silken strings, just so they could shatter. /i k a r i s h i p p i n g/
1. Chapter 1

**The Marionette**

**Prologue: The Swans**

So yah this is AU Ikarishipping, and written in one breath during a rare fit-of-inspiration-and-procrastination. Pretty horrible, though, so good luck!

* * *

Paul was sitting stiffly in the living room armchair, skimming through the daily newspaper, which the doorman had just dropped off outside his large Sunyshore apartment when a loud, sharp knock sounded from the front door. Sighing, Paul folded up the paper and strode to open the door, staring outside.

"Yes? Who is it?" Paul asked, brows furrowed in slight irritation.

"PAUL!" Ursula's screeching voice yelled. Paul sighed. Not again…

Ursula dashed into the apartment, throwing herself into the armchair he had _just been sitting in_, and thrusted a cream-coloured envelope into his face.

Paul took it from her. The old-fashioned wax seal was cracked, meaning Ursula had already looked in it. He opened it, taking out a stiff card and—was that a ticket of some sort?

Trying to ignore the fact that Ursula was staring at him expectantly, Paul opened the card. In blue pen, words were handwritten in elegant, thin cursive.

_Dear Miss Ursula of Sunyshore City,_

_You are cordially invited to attend my performance in the ballet _Swan Lake_, which will take place two weeks from now at the Stardust Ballet Theatre in Snowpoint City of Sinnoh. Enclosed is one ticket for a seat in a special reserved box for all of my guests. No RSVP required, as the seat is reserved for you. If you cannot attend, please give your ticket to another person, who will go in your place, as no refunds are allowed and tickets are expensive. To do so, please sign in the light blue space at the right of your ticket. This will signify that you have given your permission to let him/her attend in your place. I hope to see you there, and I wish you the best of luck._

_Sincerely,_

_Miss Dawn Berlitz_

There was indeed a blue space on the ticket with a pre-printed line for a signature. Seemed straightforward enough.

Paul put the card and ticket back inside the envelope, which he placed on the coffee table next to the newspaper.

"Well?" Ursula asked impatiently, peach curls bobbing as she continued to stare at Paul.

"Well what?" Paul asked.

"Well, will you go in my place?"

"I thought you liked ballet. Why don't you want to go?"

Ursula pulled at air. "I do like ballet. But I will never, ever, _ever_, go to a ballet with Miss Saved-By-The-Bell _Dawn Berlitz _in it! Honestly, Paul, don't you know me at all?"

Paul sighed, tilting his head back. So that was why.

Ursula was his girlfriend. Their parents, wealthy business partners, had decided to put them together on Ursula's request after Paul had graduated from university. His degree in International Relations was just a formality. With his family's wealth, and the fact that the business would no doubt be passed on to Reggie and Maylene, Paul would probably never have to work a day in his life. Ursula was the same, with her degree in Performing Arts. Ever since middle school, it had been fairly clear that Ursula was madly infatuated with him, and after university, her parents had proposed to have the two of them date. And, well, Paul's parents couldn't exactly refuse, even though Paul wasn't at all fond of Ursula, and actually found her to be something of an annoyance occasionally.

However, another girl had attended middle school with Paul and Ursula: Dawn Berlitz. She wasn't particularly wealthy, and had made her way into the private academy through a special arts honor program for those with exceptional skills in the arts. Dawn had the same dream as Ursula: to become a professional prima ballerina. Only, of course, Dawn was going to be using it for a living.

Ursula and Dawn hadn't really known each other; Dawn was introverted and slight, preferring to spend her spare time dancing _en pointe_ inside rather than hang out with Ursula's type of popular, glamorous girls. And when highschool arrived, Dawn and Ursula both applied for the same prestigious, dance-centered highschool—which would only accept one student per middle school. Ursula had lost to Dawn, who passed the audition with flying colours while Ursula was forced to try for the drama program at a different school. But ever since then, Ursula had maintained a bitter animosity towards Dawn, who, rather, treated Ursula politely and with respect.

And now, he had to go to her ballet instead of Ursula, who would rather die than be seen in that theatre. Joy.

"Hello? Earth to Paul!" Ursula's voice snapped Paul out of his thoughts, and he turned to find her with her hands on her hips, looking quite petulant.

"So?" Ursula demanded. "Are you going for me or not?"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Fine," he muttered.

Her face brightened instantly. "Awesome! Thanks, Paulie, you're the best! Oh, I've gotta go now—I was supposed to meet my friends for shopping today! Bye!"

And with that, Ursula dashed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her with a loud bang.

Sighing, Paul got up, locked the door, than sat back down in the armchair (finally!) and picked up the envelope, turning it over in his hands. He didn't know much about ballet, but…Dawn Berlitz, eh? This should prove to be interesting.

* * *

Paul trudged off the blimp onto the thickly packed snow of Snowpoint City, feet sinking almost up to the ankles in the mass of white. He checked in at the hotel he'd made reservations at. It was five-star, with ambient golden lighting and a massive lobby.

"Hey! Paul!" Paul turned to see a raven-haired guy racing towards him at top speed, followed by an angry-looking girl with orange hair. He squinted at them. Was that Ash? From way back in middle school?

Ash was bent over with his hands on his knees, huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.

"Finally…caught up…*huff*…to you…*huff*…*puff*…" Ash panted. The girl behind him sighed, before pulling out a mallet and bonking Ash squarely on the head with it.

"Come _on_, Ash. We have to check in, or we'll have no place to stay! And would you like to stay out in the snow all night? With no food?"

Ash bolted upright. "What? Food?"

The girl sighed. Grabbing Ash's ear, she began pulling him towards the front counter, seemingly oblivious to his groans of pain.

"Geez, Misty. At least let me say hi to Paul first…"

"No deal. You can talk to your friends later, or maybe after the ballet. Dawn did plan this as a reunion, you know," the girl (Misty?) snapped, continuing to drag Ash by his ear.

So they were here for the ballet too? It seemed that Dawn gave tickets to all her old acquaintances from back in middle school, and this was the only hotel in Snowpoint, so somewhere around here must be…

"Dreeeeeeeeew!" May yelled.

Paul sweatdropped. Yep, there it was.

"Come on, Zo, we don't want to be late to check in!" Kenny. No doubt about it.

"If you don't let me through right now, I'm going to fine all of you!" Barry was still single. No surprise there.

Before any more crazy people could run up to him, Paul started for the elevator, riding up to the twenty-first floor, where his luxury suite was located.

Stepping in, Paul surveyed his surroundings. The main doorway opened up to a large, elegant living room. The floors were hardwood with lush white carpets. It was decorated in a seamless blend of traditional and modern. A glass coffee table with a crystal vase of fresh white lilies on top sat in the middle of the living room. Soaring windows in front of Paul revealed the clean, snow-covered skyline of Snowpoint, the breezy curtains tucked to the side. A white sofa, tastefully decorated with red throw pillows sat in front of the window, a tall lamp beside it. There was a television on the wall in front of the sofa, and two glass walls with a doorway between then revealed the private dining room to the left of the living room. Not interested in that, Paul opened a door to the right of the living room and found his master bedroom. The hardwood floors were almost entirely covered with a huge white carpet, and directly across from Paul, he could see the master bath through an open door.

The king-size bed was covered in beautiful golden, mahogany, and bronze silken sheets. Brown curtains extended from the ceiling down to the large headpiece, the two small tables to the side of the bed each holding up a small lamp and two drawers. To Paul's right, next to the doorway, there was an elaborately carved dressing table, which Paul doubted he would use anytime soon. To the right was yet another table, this one with the help telephone on it. A little bit in front of the bed, a small, round table held up a slot for his room card key and another vase of lilies, two burgundy armchairs in front of it overlooking the large window, which opened out onto a balcony.

Crossing the room to the bed, Paul took off his shoes in exchange for the comfortable slippers the hotel provided, and hung his coat on the iron coat rack, before heading over to the bathroom to wash his hands and maybe take a shower.

The bathroom was just as golden as the master, with golden and brown tiled walls and a clean white marble floor. The granite counter had a modern sink, and an indent into the counter held another pair of slippers and a neatly folded bathrobe. The whole thing was lit with modern pot lights, racks providing plenty of fresh white towels of every size and shape. The whole wall in front of the counter was a mirror, even extending back to the large Jacuzzi tub, which was filled with lukewarm water, rose petals floating on top. The stand-up shower held the traditional hotel bathing products, and had a special rail for balance. Washing his hands, Paul walked back into the bedroom and went out to the balcony, staring out at the city.

(A.N. OhmyfreakingGodthatwasalongdescription. Iwillneverdothattoyouagain. Promise. BecauseDawn'ssuiteisgoingtobeawholelotsmallersonon eedtoworry.)\

A brisk breeze pulled at Paul's hair, and he was cold, especially without his coat, but staring down at the dizzying ground twenty-one floors below him, Paul smiled.

* * *

Meanwhile, Dawn was at the Stardust Theatre, training like crazy.

Stagehands yelled encouragement to her as she twirled on stage in her training clothes, her whole body concentrated on turning. And turning. And turning.

They were counting. Counting, to see how many turns she could do. She had done this before, even gone over her count, but this time, she was aiming for fifty.

Fifty fouettés. In a row. Without moving an inch or stopping. She only had to do thirty-two, of course, but she had done forty.

And now she was about to do ten more.

_Forty-three, forty-four, forty-five—keep it up, Mademoiselle, you're almost there—forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine…_

_Fifty._

Dawn stopped, exhilarated, adrenaline rushing through her. She had done it. She had turned fifty fouettés in a row. Stagehands cheered as she looked at them, beaming so widely she thought her face would split. The stagehands, in turn, were delighted to see their normally calm, perfectly poised _Mademoiselle_ break out in such an outburst of emotion.

Taking a long drink of cool water, Dawn gathered her stuff and slipped out to the changing room, exhausted. Waving at the stagehands, she yelled:

"I'll be back tomorrow too!"

They gave her nods to show that they understood, and Dawn rushed to the ladies' changing room, feeling like she could fly.

She was the only one there, everybody else either out eating dinner or at home making the final touches on their pointe shoes.

Sitting down on a bench, Dawn unlaced her pointe shoes, sliding her feet out of them. She had broken in her shoes long ago—her feet had high, arched insteps. Adding to that, they were slender and tapered, resulting in more chance of injury during practice, and as such, Dawn wore out her shoes very quickly. She had to be careful not to wear these ones out, though—she had spare ones at her hotel, but they hadn't been broken in yet, and it would take at least half a day to make them comfortable, and Dawn just didn't have the time.

Changing back into her street clothes, which consisted of a thick pullover and jeans, Dawn pulled on her winter coat, carefully placed her pointe shoes into her bag, and caught a cab to her five-star hotel, where the Stardust Theatre had graciously provided a room for her.

Her room wasn't anything special—eleventh floor, a queen bed, small bathroom, walk-in kitchen, your standard hotel room—but the service was amazing and all the materials were top-notch high quality. Dawn's costumes were carefully laid out on her bed—the beautiful ballgown and white tutu for Odette, and her favourite: the intricate black tutu of Odile, the black swan. As in traditional Swan Lake productions, Dawn was dancing both the parts of Odette and Odile, almost like reverse personalities.

Dawn carefully hung up her three costumes in the small closet—she'd kept all her other clothes in her suitcase so the costumes wouldn't get scratched—and went to take a quick shower. After that, Dawn quickly changed into a fancy black evening gown—there was a dinner party tonight, and Dawn loved all kinds of parties. She let her hair fall down in a mass of blue past her shoulders, and did her eyes up with black eyeliner, false lashes, and silver eyeshadow. Once she was certain she was ready, Dawn swept down to the third floor which housed the ballroom, putting a lacy black veil over her head.

She danced with many people that night, none seeming to recognize her, thank goodness, and ate some of the most delicious food, marvelling especially at the sweets, before heading upstairs again to her room.

That night, she slept soundly, dreams crisscrossing with white and black swans, and permeating through it all, that vision of her, spinning around and around in a neverending circle of fouettés.

* * *

Paul woke up to a crack of sunlight sifting through a gap in the curtains in front of the balcony. Getting out of bed, Paul ordered the sheets slightly, even though people would be coming in here to clean anyway. The two white towels he'd used from last night's shower were folded neatly in front of the bed for them to take away and clean. He hadn't gone down to the dinner party last night, but just as he walked into the bathroom, it struck him:

This was the only hotel in Snowpoint.

The Stardust Theatre didn't have boarding rooms.

Dawn Berlitz was from Twinleaf Town—there was no way she owned a house here.

Therefore…

Chances were Dawn was in this building right now.

Paul checked the time: nine thirty-five in the morning. Scrap that last sentence. No ballerina slept in that far one day before the performance. Sighing, Paul brushed his teeth and splashed his face with cold water. Changing into normal clothes, Paul pulled his coat off the rack and headed down to the second floor to have breakfast.

* * *

"Hi, Sir, is there anything we can do for you?" A lady asked Paul as he stepped into the jewelry store.

"Yes, actually. I'd like to see the pearls." Paul said. Before he went, Ursula had been talking nonstop about black pearls, and Paul was pretty sure that if he didn't go back to Sunyshore with at least one of those earrings for her, Ursula was going to blow her top off.

Walking behind the lady, Paul was led into a space piled with pearl jewelry of every sort. He marched straight over to the black pearls, where another lady was helping a young woman. Gazing at the assortments, Paul frowned. He had no idea how to pick jewelry for a girl, and it didn't help that three more customers suddenly appeared and the two ladies left to help them.

Looking over his shoulder, Paul saw the young woman, who apparently couldn't choose between two identical black and white pearl necklaces. Her hair was completely tucked up under a creamy white winter hat, and her blue eyes sparkled as she stared at the pearl necklaces.

"Which one do you think I should get?" The girl asked him.

Paul shrugged. "Try them on."

"I already did, but neither that lady nor I can decide."

"Try them on again."

The girl hesitated, before pulling out the black pearls. They showed off her creamy skin and made her look older and sophisticated, but Paul tilted his head, frowning. There was something about them that he didn't like.

"No?" The girl asked.

Paul sighed. Why was he helping her? "The other one," he said.

The white pearls were iridescent and flawless, adding to her already elegant look. Paul frowned. They were just as pretty as the black pearls, and the glow of them…

"Get those ones."

The girl beamed. "Really? Thanks!" She took off the white pearls and called for the lady, who led her back to the front. Paul picked up the black pearls, fingering them. They didn't cost very much—a splurge, maybe, for the girl, but next to nothing for Paul. Turning around, he called as well.

Ursula ought to like the necklace.

* * *

Stepping into the Stardust Theatre wearing her brand-new pearls, Dawn thought back to the guy in the jewelry shop. There was something familiar about him, something almost nostalgic. Shrugging it off, Dawn changed into her ballgown. Dress rehearsal was in half an hour, and she had to hurry if she wanted everything right on time.

(A.N. Ohoho so the pearls girl was Dawn…poor Paul…he's stuck with Ursula as a girlfriend…ohoho…)

Paul had just finished his room-service ordered dinner. For some inane reason, Paul couldn't get that pearls girl out of his head. Her smile…that voice…there was something lingeringly familiar about her, something lurking right on the edge of his mind…but he couldn't remembed it. Banishing those thoughts from his head, Paul opened his door and slid the tray out into the hallway. It was well past ten o clock, and the ballet started the next morning at eleven. With no alarm clock coupled with his tendency of sleeping past nine in the morning, Paul figured he should go to bed soon.

And he did just that.

Back in her room, a tired but triumphant Dawn sat on her bed, playing with the little dolphin the cleaners had folded using the towels she had left for them to clean. Everything had gone perfectly during the rehearsal—her fifty fouettés, pointe shoes being ready for tomorrow, costumes, everything. Now, having already finished dinner, Dawn placed the little dolphin on her bedside table and got ready for bed, her body tingling with anticipation for tomorrow's ballet.

* * *

The theatre was filled to the brim, Paul sitting in a private box with a perfect view of the stage. Ash, Misty, Zoey, Kenny, May, and Drew were all sitting with him. None of them talked to each other, preferring instead to watch the stage intently as music started to play.

In the prologue when Dawn makes her appearance, the theatre clapped deafeningly as she danced on stage in a ballgown, seeming to almost float. When Von Rothbart transformed her into a swan, the entire theatre gasped as she fell violently to the floor, disappearing and appearing again in a white tutu—the white swan.

In Act One, the Prince was dancing and laughing, being the embodiment of merriment. Paul flipped open the paper they had given him, just barely making out the words due to lack of light.

Odette—Miss Dawn Berlitz

Siegfried—Mr. Riley Steel

Odile—Miss Dawn Berlitz

Von Rothbart—Mr. Grimsley Shadow

The other names Paul couldn't make out, but he knew enough already. Turning his attention back to the stage, Paul saw Siegfried and some other men rush off stage, apparently in pursuit of a flock of swans.

In Act Two, Siegfried rushes to the Swan Lake, aiming a crossbow at one of the swans, but then drops it as the swan turns into Odette, Dawn making her second appearance. A beautiful dance followed by Von Rothbart's appearance follows, with Odette and the Prince falling in love before dawn comes and the swans are dragged back to the lake.

Then, the scene changed to an opulent hall, where a woman appearing to be the Queen talks to Siegfried. He subsequently dances with six princesses, not liking any of them. The audience, himself included, Paul discovered, were all holding their breath for the Black Swan to appear—Odile, accompanied by Von Rothbart.

When Dawn appeared dressed in black, the audience cheered again, and Siegfried began to dance with her, thinking she was Odette. Paul saw Odile begin to turn…what was she up to?

Just then, May gasped. "Drew! The thirty-two fouettés! We have to count this!"

Ash's voice sounded. "Mist is on it."

Dawn started turning beautifully, one after the other. Paul heard Misty counting out loud, and against his will, he began to count in his head as well.

"Hey, Kenny," Zoey's voice said. "The Black Swan has to turn thirty-two fouettés, right?"

"Yeah," Kenny replied. "Let's hope she makes it."

Paul kept counting…and counting…and counting. _Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two!_

The audience cheered, but they were in for a surprise: Dawn kept turning! Paul frantically started counting again, along with the rest of the audience. Together, their whispered chanting turned into a loud beat, categorizing each turn.

_Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty!_

Dawn finally stopped to exuberant cheers from the crowd. Paul didn't notice the rest of the act, too busy wrapping his mind around the fact that Dawn had just turned fifty fouettés in a row.

Finally, Act Four came along, and as Siegfried and Von Rothbart battled back and forth, much to the dismay of Dawn, who was Odette again, Von Rothbart died, and the spell was broken, but Siegfried, suffering from a mortal wound, was killed as well. As Paul watched, Odette came back in the ballgown from the prologue and collapsed in front of the dead prince, and as Dawn bowed her head, body slumped forward in lamentation, the curtains closed to a long standing ovation.

Paul stood up, feeling like he was waking from a dream. Looking around, he could see that the others felt the same way.

"Oh, man, Dawn was awesome," May said, stretching out her stiff muscles.

"Agreed," Misty sighed, nodding.

Then, a stagehand walked up to their box and gave them each matching envelopes.

Paul flipped his open. A card inside read, in Dawn's thin cursive:

_Dear Friend,_

_You are cordially invited to a reunion dinner party tomorrow night at five-thirty in the evening at the Snowpoint Rosewater, under the reservation "Berlitz". Please dress appropriately, and please refrain from bringing anyone else. Thank you, and I hope to see you tomorrow._

_Sincerely,_

_Miss Dawn Berlitz._

Paul put the card back into the envelope. The blimp back to Sunyshore didn't leave until next week, so why not? Tuning out the excited chatters of the other occupants of the box, Paul walked outside the Theatre, pulling on his coat. That image of Dawn spinning around and around and around was playing in his brain, as well as overlapping images—two identical swans, one pure white, the other solid black.

* * *

SO YAH WHAT DID YOU THINK?

This was sooooo long. I was actually gonna write more…but then I checked the word count and was like "Oh God this is ten pages and like four thousand words, I should probably spare them." So, yeah. This will be updated pretty sparingly, as three stories is a lot to handle right now and Acquaintances is first on my priority list. Well, anyway, IKARISHIPPIIIIING! And sorry if this was too long….^_^


	2. Chapter 2

**The Marionette**

**Chapter One: Faces**

I am on a roll with posting stuff! Whoo! And now that I've finally settled into a proper working balance between Fanfiction and music theory, there's more time for Fanfiction! *Cheers*

So, anyway, this story. I am addicted to this story. This happens every time I start a story that isn't a one-shot or drabble of some sort—I get so many ideas. So. Many. I mean, my brain usually works overtime as its usual one-girl brainstorming machine (to the point where I can't sleep at night), but this is just crazy. And thank you to everybody who's reviewed, favourited, and followed this story. I really wasn't expecting it to get so much support! ^^

And…OH YEAH I'M PUTTING MINOR ON TEMPORARY HIATUS BECAUSE IT'S JUST NOT IN ME TO POST THE THIRD CHAPTER AND THE ORIGINAL RUSH OF IDEAS HAS FAILED MISERABLY AND I JUST NEED MORE FREAKING TIME FOR THIS STORY AND ACQUAINTANCES. But, once we hit second/third week of August, expect me to post stuff, like, once a day. It's just that I'm unbelievably stressed right now, so I hope you guys can hold out.

Disclaimer: I don't think there was a disclaimer in the last chapter….so that's what was missing. SATOSHI TAJIRI PLEASE DON'T SUE ME IT WASN'T INTENTIONAL! Standard disclaimer applies.

* * *

Dawn was in the mall, trying to find a pretty dress to wear to dinner that night. The day after the premiere had been crammed with reporters and interviews, mostly asking about her fifty fouettés. Even now, she was pretty sure there were at least five people gawking at her. Walking up to the window display to look at a scarlet dress with a sweetheart neckline and a slit up to mid-thigh, Dawn discreetly checked behind her. Yep. A whole family had stopped and was staring at her.

Walking into the shop, Dawn called to a sales attendant.

"I'd like to try on the red dress, please," she said.

Looking at herself in the change room mirror, Dawn contemplated the dress. It wasn't all that expensive, and it brought out her navy curls, but Dawn didn't have many accessories to match. Sighing, Dawn changed back into her regular sweater and leggings, and returned the dress.

She skimmed around the shops for a while, before stopping, mouth agape, at a dress that was _perfect_.

It was a creamy ivory with golden undertones and a sweetheart neckline. The neckline cut straight down under her arms to a low dip in the back, and beautiful white lace covered the skin from the throat all the way down to her wrist. Where the lace was at the arms, it only covered the top—the bottom was made of sheer gauze that billowed in crimped bunches from the underside of the arms, almost like wings. The foremost crimps extended up to the middle finger, covering the palms. A band connected the gauze from the fingers to the lace, which was stretched out to reach the band. The lace covered her collarbones, before becoming progressively spread out in crisscrossing lines, getting more and more spread out the lower the dip got. The floor-length skirt extended in a steep A-line from the tight bodice, and a sheet of delicate voile and lace covered the skirt, extending farther down to form a train.

Dawn tried it on, and when she emerged from the dressing room, she was awed at her reflection. The empire waist showed off her tiny measurements and emphasized her long legs, and the crimps hid her slim hips. The satin and lace was comfortable, and Dawn knew that her new pearl necklace would go perfectly around the lace on her throat. It was affordable to boot, especially with the huge discount the store provided, and Dawn easily paid for it and arranged to have it delivered to her hotel room at three in the afternoon, which would give her just over an hour to get ready and go the short distance to the famed Snowpoint Rosewater, the luxury restaurant where the dinner party would be taking place. Booking a reservation for eight was something of a splurge for Dawn, but with the money she was being paid to dance _Swan Lake_, the costs barely made a dent.

Back in the hotel, Dawn ordered a small lunch, and, carefully tucking her now worn pointe shoes into her suitcase, proceeded to break her new ones in. She was going to have to get more shoes at this rate—Swan Lake would be playing several destinations across Eastern Sinnoh, and heaven forbid Dawn ran out of shoes to wear.

* * *

Paul, back in his hotel suite, went online using the hotel's laptop and internet access. The news was full of the _Swan Lake_ premiere—Dawn's fifty fouettés, especially—but Paul ignored that and instead searched up the Snowpoint Rosewater. It looked to be an extremely formal, luxurious restaurant, and Paul instantly knew that he was going to have to wear something achingly formal. Luckily, he had packed a suit in his suitcase. Rummaging through his belongings, Paul found the suit. He would need it to be spick and span for the dinner tonight. The time was just over one o clock—with the expert service this hotel provided, he should be able to get it lightly cleaned in time. Ringing a bell at the door, Paul handed the suit over with clear instructions to have it ready by four-thirty, if not before, and ordered a sandwich for lunch. Waiting for it to arrive, Paul sat back down at the laptop. Some of those news articles looked interesting.

* * *

At three, the dress was delivered as promised. Dawn changed into it, giggling like a little girl at her reflection. Pulling her hair every which way, Dawn experimented with a few styles, before deciding on pulling and pinning her hair back, retaining her curls and letting a few thick locks escape and frame her face perfectly. Applying waterproof silver eyeliner and silver false lashes, Dawn brushed on light golden eyeshadow and sheer lip gloss and carefully put on dropping earrings with a pearl at the end, slipping on her pearl necklace. Carefully filing and buffing her nails, Dawn slid her feet into low, strappy golden heels. Grabbing a mauve clutch bag, Dawn dropped her lip gloss, eye and lip liners, and mascara inside along with her wallet and various cards, before heading out of the hotel, studiously ignoring the open-mouthed staring of pretty much every single guy in the hotel, and made her way to the Snowpoint Rosewater for her reservation.

Paul checked his watch—it was ten past five. Having made himself presentable, suit and all, Paul made his way out of the hotel and into the luxury Snowpoint Rosewater.

* * *

The front of the restaurant was elegant and sophisticated, with two marble columns on either side of the double-doored entranceway, with the words _Snowpoint_ carved on the left one and _Rosewater_ carved on the right. Above the entrance, a lattice of roses was carved out of pure white marble, and situated on top of the columns were two glass bowls filled with clean water, a fresh, perfect red rose floating in each bowl.

Behind him, Paul heard May exclaim in delight.

"Wow, Drew, are those real roses?"

When Drew replied affirmatively, May gasped even louder.

"Woah, Dawn must've splurged like hell to get this reservation…"

Ignoring them, Paul stepped inside the restaurant. There was a wide corridor, beyond where he could hear people chatting and laughing, and see formally dressed waiters and waitresses bustling about, carrying platters of food and drinks.

A concierge stepped up to Paul with a pleasant smile on his face.

"Do you have a reservation, _monsieur_?"

Paul cleared his throat and nodded. "Under Berlitz, please,"

The concierge smiled even wider. "Ah, Miss Berlitz has already arrived. Allow me to take your coat, _monsieur_."

Paul handed his coat to the man with a gruff thanks.

"Miss Berlitz has reserved the top floor penthouse mezzanine—the most luxurious private area we have," the concierge explained. "Additionally, there is a team dedicated to that room here. Cheryl, would you come here, please?"

A girl with dark green hair dressed as a maid, but with an air of confidence that led Paul to think she held a higher standard appeared and curtsied to Paul.

"Miss Cheryl is head of the team of ten employed for your room. Cheryl, please show this _monsieur_ to the penthouse mezzanine."

Cheryl smiled. "Of course. This way, please, _monsieur_."

Paul let himself be led by Cheryl up to a glass elevator. The ground floor was golden and sparkling clean, all the guests dressed to the nines. In case you didn't like elevators, a winding marble staircase carpeted with roses led up as far as Paul could see, with a landing on each floor. In the alcove under the staircase, a small waterfall spilled onto a platform of marble, roses floating in the small pool, perfuming the air. Small children were playing with the waterfall while parents and waiters looked on patiently.

They rode the elevator up to the eighth floor, where the doors opened to a huge penthouse complete with a sitting room, a dining room, even a small balcony where you had a picturesque view of nighttime Snowpoint. On the balcony, a petite, poised figure stood, dressed in ivory and gold, navy curls azure under the ambient lighting.

Paul's heart skipped a beat. _Dawn_.

Cheryl led him out of the elevator to the dining room, which opened out onto the balcony.

"_Mademoiselle_, one of your guests has arrived," Cheryl called, before backing into the elevator, where the doors closed and she shot back down to the main floor.

Dawn turned, light smile in place, before she saw Paul and her eyes widened, mouth opening slightly. Paul, in turn, was stunned as well.

Dawn was the same girl who had been in the jewelry shop with him.

But Paul couldn't fathom how that shy girl with the odd white hat had transformed into _her_.

She was petite, with a tiny waist and slim hips. Her posture was perfectly straight from years of ballet training, shoulders sloping down under their cover of lace. On her creamy throat was the exact same white pearl necklace he had chosen the other day. Her face was pale, with a pearly glow to it—no blush needed. Thin eyebrows arched upwards over her eyes—her eyes. Paul had never seen eyes so purely _blue_, like the blue on the primary colours chart one might teach to a small child. Long silvery eyelashes extended, and her lips were silky clear from their coat of gloss. Her chin was pointed to a T, high cheekbones adding to the sharp angle. Azure curls framed her face, though most of it was pulled back in an old-fashioned style. She was a marionette, a porcelain doll, a dangerously elegant, fragile, graceful, _beautiful_ swan.

Getting over her initial shock, for Paul was certain she recognized him, Dawn smiled and stepped out of the balcony into the dining room, skirts gliding over the marble floor.

"Paul, right?" She asked. Her voice was clear, concise, like a shard of broken glass. Not sweet, but delicate and fragmented.

Paul nodded, regaining his composure. "Right. Nice to meet you…again."

She smiled, and extended her hand. "Dawn Berlitz. Are you here for somebody?"

Paul nodded again. "I'm here for Ursula."

Dawn's smile showed a hint of mischievousness this time. "Let me guess—you're together."

Paul cleared his throat. "Yes. Ursula wanted to come, but she got sick right before, so I had to come in her place."

Teeth were shown, sharp white canines. The blue eyes sparkled. "You're lying. Ursula doesn't like me—even a fool could see that. I bet she didn't want to come, which was exactly why I included the part in the letter about having someone go in your place." Here, Dawn paused and tilted her head up, lips parting slightly. "I wanted to see whom she'd send."

Paul was unable to speak. When you're the son of a business company as large as his family's, you learn to lie perfectly, game face tattooed on. How had she read him so well?

Dawn smiled, whisking out a chair from the round dining room table and sitting down.

"Don't be alarmed. I'm good at reading people—you could say it comes from my career. Well? Sit down."

Paul sat in the seat beside her. Before he could talk, the elevator burst open, Cheryl escorting May and Drew this time. Curtsying to Dawn and Paul, she backed away again, leaving May to squeal over Dawn's dress while Drew smirked and flicked his hair.

May sat on Dawn's left, with Drew beside her.

"Hey…Paul, wasn't it? Long time no see! How are you doing?" May greeted him. Paul managed a smile in return.

"Fine, thanks."

Dawn clapped her hands. "May, stand up."

"Huh?" May looked confused, but stood up anyway.

Dawn's eyes opened wide. "Oh my God, May, where did you get that dress?"

May's eyes shone. "You really like it? Thanks, Dawn! I got it online—I'll email you the website tomorrow."

Dawn laughed. "Silly—you were so busy gushing over my dress that I forgot to check out yours!"

May's dress was burgundy, with a deep, Grecian-style V-neck. A burgundy sash was looped under the V-neck, and the rest of the dress was in a simple column, burgundy fabric rippling down to her ankles. On her feet were a pair of nude heels with a small bow at the back of each. Her lips were peachy, no doubt the work of some lipstick, and as near as Paul could figure, May had used heavy black eyeliner and burgundy eyeshadow to enhance her blue eyes. Her nails were a dark, magenta pink, and a ruby and diamond necklace decorated her throat.

While the girls were busy comparing dress details, Drew rolled his eyes at Paul.

"Girls," Drew said.

Paul snorted. "Tell me about it."

Then, the doors glided open once more to reveal Misty and Ash, and May and Dawn abandoned their outfits in favour of Misty's, while Ash sat next to Paul and put his head in his hands.

"I'm hungry…" Ash whined, while Drew and Paul tried not to snicker.

Misty's dress was sleeveless with a slight sweetheart neckline, the dark purple silk extending straight down from the bust down to the floor. The silk was relatively form-fitting, giving a shadowy idea of Misty's silhouette, and sheets of transparent violet chiffon extended over the dress as well, giving it a floaty kind of imagery, a pair of violet, buckled heels on her feet. She'd applied dark red lip gloss and her eyes were topped with fading black to white eyeshadow. On top of that, Misty had on dark, almost blue amethyst earrings and a matching necklace.

"Misty, could you stop going gaga over dresses and stuff and actually get me some food?" Ash whined.

Misty stormed over to him and gave him a solid hit with her mallet. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ketchum, but I don't work here. If you want food, you have to wait until Zoey and Kenny get here."

And then Cheryl escorted Zoey and Kenny inside.

"Speak of the devil," Paul muttered, while the other guys snickered.

Kenny sat down next to Ash, sighing.

"Zoey's been nagging me nonstop since we got the invitation," Kenny groaned. "She knows I hate wearing suits…"

As was now custom, the guys scanned Zoey's outfit as well.

Zoey's dress was probably the most edgy. It was a simple, plain white, with a Grecian one-shoulder neckline and a normal skirt, but starting from the back, the dress was completely black. The black wrapped around the side to slant and cut off right next to Zoey's waist, giving the old-fashioned style a more modern look. Her eyes had been done up with black cat's eye eyeliner and black mascara, making them look huge, while her lips were topped with ruby red lipstain in startling contrast to her minimalist outfit. She also had on long, diamond iceberg earrings and black-and-white geometric heels.

Ash suddenly jumped up, making everybody startle and crash the relaxed mood.

"Come on, I wanna eat!" Ash yelled, making the girls laugh and the guys smirk.

"Alright, alright, hold your horses," Dawn said. "I'll get food in a minute. You guys look through the menus and pick what you like for the appetizer. I'm going to go ring up the staff."

They flipped through the menus, Ash ordering Thai rolls for him and Misty, May two bowls of clam chowder, one each for her and Drew, Kenny a jumbo-sized Caesar salad to share with Zoey, Paul a platter of bruschetta, and Dawn, returning from ringing the staff, a mango salad.

The service was perfect, and the food tasted great. Just as they were finishing, Cheryl brought up eight parmesan pannacotta _amuse-bouches_ courtesy of the chef, which they also finished quickly.

Taking a small sip of the beverage they'd ordered along with the appetizer—most people had gotten red wine, but Paul and Dawn ordered simple fizzy water—Paul glanced over at Dawn, who was currently engaged in a lively conversation with May about how stage makeup differed from regular makeup application. Seeing her now was completely different from both the shy pearls girl and the regal swan he'd seen her as earlier. Now, she was a normal city girl, out for a reunion dinner with her friends, talking and laughing. And Paul wondered…just how many faces did Dawn have?

Those sorts of thoughts were soon banished by the arrival of the entrée, which consisted of a large quiche, which a waiter promptly cut up into eight perfectly equal slices. Taking one, Dawn thanked the waiter, instantly appearing to be the gracious, modest hostess. Paul added that to his list of Dawn faces, taking his own slice of the entrée. Misty, to his surprise, passed, saying that she'd rather save her appetite for the other courses, and her slice went to Ash, who seemed to be able to consume copious amounts of food without ever growing full.

"Ash, do you ever get full?" Zoey asked, echoing Paul's thoughts.

"Well, there was that time when he ate a whole stew pot by himself," Misty remarked. "But he was only slightly stuffed that time, and kept saying he could eat more. I stopped him, though."

Dawn giggled, finishing her slice of quiche. "That's Ash's stomach for you, I guess," she added, drinking some fizzy water to wash down her food.

By then, they'd all finished their slices of quiche, and when a waitress appeared to clear away the plates and ask them if they'd like the main course, Dawn declined, putting on the hostess cover again, saying that she'd like to wait awhile before the food came up, and the waitress nodded, backing into the elevator.

Seeing as there wasn't any food for the moment, they retired to the sitting room, which had a wooden floor and a cozy, amiable feeling to it, with the plush couches, large olive green and cream beanbags, and silk throw pillows, complete with a flatscreen TV. Paul excused himself for some air, and went to go out onto the balcony.

Nighttime Snowpoint was amazing—the snow glistened under the streetlights, footprints covering the icy sidewalks. The skyline was relatively low for a big city, devoid of any tall skyscrapers like the ones in Sunyshore City. He could see people shoveling their driveways, and over in the distance, the one really tall building in Snowpoint—the hotel. He spotted the Stardust Theatre, round, domed roof easy to pick out amongst the steeply sloped roofs of the regular houses. His breath puffed out in white clouds, dispersing along with the faint, cold wind.

"If you look far enough to the north, you can see the Snowpoint Temple."

Dawn voice abruptly sounded next to him, and Paul turned to look at her. Oddly, he wasn't even surprised about her sneaking up on him—it was as if her, next to him, was perfectly comfortable and alright.

Dawn's pale hand, middle finger looped with lace, pointed past the Stardust Theatre to a hazy, soft dark outline far, far off.

"It's holy ground, and nobody but the nuns are allowed there. Sure would like to go there sometime…" Dawn's voice sounded dreamy, as hazy as the outline of the temple.

"Yeah," Paul agreed. There was something about that soft, dark mass, just barely brushing the horizon, that made him quiet inside. He felt Dawn's hand slip into his, and they stood there like that, for what seemed like an age.

Dawn's hand left his, an empty, cold space where it had once been.

"We should go back inside," he heard her say softly. "The others should be getting hungry."

He nodded, and turned to leave the balcony when he caught a glimpse of Dawn's face as she turned away. It was soft, nostalgic, almost tired, with an undertone of mysterious longing. Adding that to the faces of Dawn he knew, Paul wondered, briefly, if _that_ was Dawn's real face.

The main course was a delicious sirloin steak for Paul, while Dawn had salmon with dill. Ash had ordered the grilled steak for him and Misty, Kenny and Zoey cod, and May and Drew had the barbecue with mashed potatoes. The main course came with a reload of drinks, and a side dish consisting of dinner rolls with butter and macaroni and cheese.

They took another short break for toasting the _Swan Lake_ premiere with fizzy water and wine, before Dawn called up the dessert menu and they ordered their last course of the night.

May had ordered chocolate cake with fresh raspberries, Drew a lemon tart, Dawn cheesecake, Misty apple pie, Ash chocolate chip cookies, Zoey the bakes custard, Paul the coconut soufflé, and Kenny the strawberry sorbet.

They'd all finished their desserts, but were unwilling to leave so soon after such a perfect meal, so they stayed up talking with the sense that the perfect night was almost over.

Just then, Cheryl came up to them with a tray of what seemed to be eight roses.

"Ever since the Rosewater opened, it's been our custom to have a bowl of rose water in the middle of each table after dessert, on us. If you would please enjoy."

Then, Cheryl placed a crystal, rose-shaped bowl in the center, with the heart of the rose serving as an opening, and poured clear water into the opening. As they watched, the water filled up the entire bowl, up to every last hollow petal, until the only thing stopping it from completely bursting was the crystal cover of the bowl. Cheryl then turned to Dawn.

"_Mademoiselle_, if you would be so kind as to please select the rose and place it on the middle of this bowl," Cheryl said, holding out one full rose and seven rosebuds—one red rose, and one white, one yellow, one lavender, one pink, one orange, one coral, and one peach rosebuds.

Dawn carefully selected the red one, placing it directly in the heart of the bowl, where Cheryl had poured the water in.

They all gasped as the petals of the bowl disintegrated, one after the other, the water-laden petals wrapping around each other to form eight tiny rosebuds, leaving one last rose in the middle that was the spitting image of the rose Dawn had selected. Watching, the rose in the middle extended its petals and wrapped them around Dawn's rose, so the whole rose was covered in crystal armour.

Cheryl then held out the rosebuds to Misty and Ash, who took the pink and yellow, respectively, and placed them onto their rosebuds, watching the same thing happen. Drew and May were next, taking the lavender and the coral, then Zoey and Kenny with the orange and peach.

And finally, Paul, who was left with the last white rose. He placed it on his crystal rosebud and watched it dissolve into the crystal perfectly.

"The crystal contains preserving properties, which will immortalize the rose so it never withers or dies, but stays fresh forever. Please take them with you, and keep them as a memory of your night here," Cheryl said.

Paul carefully picked up his rose. The crystal was cool to the touch, refracting the light of the chandeliers above.

Then, all the staff members of the penthouse mezzanine lined up, with Cheryl at the head. Together, they said:

"_Messieurs et Mesdemoiselles,_ welcome to the Snowpoint Rosewater."

* * *

Well! That's done! And that was really, really long…

Anyway, I've been doing something I haven't really done for any of my other stories: I have pictures of the outfits I made people wear! So, if you want to see them, you can go on my profile, and the links will be there! Hopefully...

I don't own any of the clothes, yada yada yada in these sets. Well, anyway, hope you like them! I spent a lot of time on these, but I have absolutely no fashion sense for anyone other than me. Whatsoever. So sorry if they suck or something.

Star xx


	3. Chapter 3

**The Marionette**

**Chapter Two: Pity**

I'm like an updating machine here! Whoo! Unfortunately, however, time for the Toronto Youth Symphonic Winds Auditions is running out (only three weeks left!) so the promised once-a-day updates may not happen/be cut to four updates a week or less.

Anyway, here is the third chapter of The Marionette. I'm always amazed by the amount of attention this is getting, considering it hasn't been up for long. Thanks to everyone who reviewed/followed/favourited this story! Your support is very much appreciated.

Disclaimer: Do you really think Nintendo sues fanfiction writers who don't put disclaimers on their stories? I mean, I've seen a good deal of stories without disclaimers, and their authors seem to be fine. Eh. XD

* * *

The staff of the Rosewater had put their roses away in small boxes for protection, and when they left the restaurant, Dawn hired one of the Snowpoint Rosewater's "snow carriages", which were large, old-fashioned carriages drawn by Sawsbuck in their Winter form, padded with lush red velvet. The Sawsbuck didn't need a driver, as they were perfectly capable of getting to the hotel on their own, so the eight people all piled into the carriage. Each velvety side of the carriage seated four people. Drew and May sat on the side facing the Sawsbuck, and Dawn and Paul went in next to them. On the other side sat Zoey, Kenny, Misty, and Ash.

The carriage started, and Paul watched the snowy streets, how a little boy slipped on the ice but was caught by his Delibird, and looking up, how the new moon was a pale sliver in the sky, barely visible. The streetlights in Snowpoint were famous for not being the normal luminous yellow of the other streetlights in Sinnoh, but a pale white colour that cast a cold, bright, watery light.

"So, Dawn," May was saying. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Dawn smiled. "I have an interview with Sinnoh Now. After that, I've got to get to the Stardust Theatre and finish practicing for the day."

"Oh, yeah, Dawn," Zoey said. "Why didn't Barry come today?"

Dawn tensed up. "Barry?"

Zoey nodded. "Yeah. I saw him in the hotel the first day I was at Snowpoint."

Paul flashed back. Yeah, Barry had been there. Why hadn't he come to dinner today?

Dawn's delicate eyebrows furrowed. "I didn't invite Barry. You think he came to challenge Candice or go sightseeing around Lake Verity or something?"

Zoey shook her head. "I even asked him if he was watching you perform, and he said yes. If you didn't invite him…"

Dawn let out a sigh. "Then he's stalking me. Joy to the world, the Lord has come."

Misty huffed. "I mean, I know he likes you, and I know you rejected him—because, face it, he's _Barry_—but this is going a bit far, don't you think?"

Paul looked at Dawn. He didn't know about her history with Barry, but it made sense, in a way. In middle school, Dawn had too many admirers to count—all the guys liked the quiet, pretty honour student. Looking at her now, Paul could see why. Dawn's beauty differed from Ursula's—Ursula was flashy and pushy, glamorously arrogant, the type that liked to give people too-sweet giga-watt smiles and leave a dazzling, glittery image printed into the back of your eyelids, whereas Dawn was sophisticated, curt, and had a sort of muted grace that was born and printed into her every move, whether she was aware of it or not. She was almost dangerously pretty—not the typical, high school girl kind, all bubbles and lollipops, but sharp and precise, with an indescribable magnetism.

Suddenly aware that he had been staring at Dawn for far too long, Paul turned his gaze back to the streets, and within a minute, they had arrived at the hotel.

Stepping out in front of the others, Paul dropped a few Poke in a little pouch at the neck of the Sawsbuck labeled "tips" and went inside the hotel. Glancing back at the others, Paul saw Dawn give the Sawsbuck a generous tip and pat it on the head affectionately, before lifting her skirts up to walk across the ice. Seeing him watching her, Dawn held his gaze for a moment, before smiling a little, looking angelic. Something settled in Paul, and he turned away, trying to get rid of the feeling, before going up to his room.

* * *

Dawn smiled at Paul, noticing him looking at her. She didn't know why—it was just something she had to do, to get him to acknowledge her, maybe. Something was unsettled in his eyes for a brief instant, before it disappeared. She held his gaze, but he turned away, and Dawn fought off the brief disappointment and continued walking, careful to avoid the overly icy patches.

In her room, Dawn took a long shower and removed her makeup, changing into her cotton nightgown. She set her alarm for eight in the morning—her interview was at eleven thirty, and she figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Peering out a window, she noticed that huge, fluffy snowflakes were falling rapidly, carpeting the already white ground, and signaling the arrival of a snowstorm that would make travel unbelievably difficult in the morning—another reason to get up early. She touched the glass of the window—it was cold, and she pressed her forehead to it, watching her breath fog up the glass. Pulling back, she drew a smiley face in it, watching the fog disappear along with the smiley face, leaving the cold night behind. Abruptly, Dawn left the window and climbed into bed. It was late enough already.

* * *

Late at night, the hotel was woken up by an announcement blaring from hidden loudspeakers.

_A record snowstorm has struck Snowpoint City violently. While it should settle by late tomorrow morning, it has been raging for quite a while now, and has damaged many of the power lines in the city. We are currently running on backup power that should last until the power lines are repaired, however we encourage those residing above floor thirteen to move down to another room on a lower floor for safety reasons. We apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you._

Paul growled upon hearing the message. It wasn't the hotel's fault, but he could be angry. He tromped down the stairs all the way down to the twelfth floor, where Drew and May's rooms were, as the elevators were out of order. Knocking on their door, Drew opened the door, looking apologetic.

"Sorry, we're already filled to the brim. There's Misty, Ash, Zoey, and Kenny in here, plus May and I. Try the lobby if you want—they have some couches there."

Paul let out a breath. Thanking Drew, he went down another floor to Dawn's room. Her door was already open, blue eyes peering out. Upon seeing him, she waved him over.

"You want to share my room? It's better than sleeping in the lobby," Dawn offered.

Paul gave a gruff nod. "Thanks," he said, stepping into her room. It was your standard hotel room—with only one bed.

"I'll take the floor," Paul offered.

Dawn shook her head. "There's a chair over there in the corner. It might be a bit of a squeeze, but curl up and you should be fine."

Paul looked over. There was indeed an old-fashioned armchair in the corner, with a footrest on it. He walked over, catching the pillow Dawn threw at him, and settled down in it.

"I'll get you a blanket," Dawn said. Walking over to the closet, she began fishing around for something.

Paul looked at her. Her cotton nightdress wasn't completely opaque, and under the billowy folds he could vaguely make out the shape of her small waist and slim legs. Moving his gaze higher, he saw how her ivory neck curved down into sloping shoulders that extended down into long arms that were bare, the sleeves ending right under the shoulders. Her hair was slightly messy from sleep, hanging down in loose tendrils that ended just past her collarbones. She wasn't anorexically thin, but still slender and willowy, even with her petite form. Dawn turned around, apparently finding what she was looking for in the form of a mustard yellow quilt. Her eyes clouded, brows furrowing as she looked at Paul strangely. Paul quickly tried to remember what he normally looked like, and ended up looking quite odd as a result.

Dawn seemed to think nothing of it, though, and she tossed the quilt to him. Paul took it gratefully and draped it over himself, glad for the extra warmth.

Dawn walked over, bare feet making no sound on the floor.

"You need anything else?" For some reason, Dawn was whispering. Paul supposed it seemed like a good time to whisper, though he had no idea why.

He shook his head, and Dawn, satisfied, walked back to her bed, turning out the light. The room was pitch-black, and he could hear the sound of the sheets shuffling as Dawn made herself comfortable. He adjusted the quilt over himself, propping his feet up on the rest. Eventually, sleep won out, and he drifted off to sleep.

Dawn was woken in the morning by her alarm clock, which blared at an almost obnoxiously loud level, rivalling an Exploud in decibel amount. Blearily, she turned it off, twisting up. Her dress was riding all the up to her waist—she wasn't a particularly heavy sleeper, and kicked everybody and everything—and the sleeves were pushed up uncomfortably, so she pulled them back down again. She heard a groan from Paul as he pushed himself up on the couch, purple hair rumpled. In that brief moment, he was, by no stretch of the imagination, quite attractive, and as he turned his gaze on her, obviously not a morning person, she resisted the urge to giggle. But as he blushed and turned away, Dawn was suddenly very conscious of the fact that her dress was currently ending at her waist and her blanket was somewhere around her upper legs, probably revealing quite a lot of skin in the process. Looking down, Dawn's face flamed as she realized that the beginning of the hem of her underwear was visible. Hurriedly pulling her dress down, she tried her best to look nonchalant as she stepped out of bed and opened the door to the hallway—and almost bumped into Barry.

"Dawn! Hey!" Barry said, face overly hopeful.

"…Hey," Dawn greeted back, albeit rather awkwardly.

Paul appeared next to her, and Barry's face darkened a bit.

"Oh, by the way, Dawn, the people who had to move last night can go back to their rooms now. Lucky for me, I had to sleep in the lobby," Barry informed her.

Dawn giggled against her will as Barry pouted while giving her the last bit of news. His face brightened immediately, but his eyes darted to Paul and his face fell again.

"Um, so, I'll…see you around then! Bye!" Barry dashed back down the hall.

Dawn shook her head. "Sometimes he's a nuisance, other times he's just comical. It's confusing, really. You should get back to your room now."

Paul gave an affirmative grunt. Dawn watched his form disappear down the hall. Somehow, the room felt…colder without his presence. She hadn't noticed before, but it was true. Shaking her head to clear it, Dawn got ready. She had to dress appropriately for the interview.

Dawn rummaged through her closet. She had to look sharp for the interview, but not overly businesslike. Something casual and chic but mature and sophisticated at the same time. She picked out her favourite white pullover with a scoop neckline and a thin black anchor design on the front. She put on a midi skirt that cinched her waist, making it even smaller. It was kept full by the waistband and tulle underlay and worked well with her top, which cut off a little high, curving upwards in the middle. Looking over her shoes, Dawn selected a pair of low-heeled pumps with a rounded, closed toe that was a muted neutral colour like the skirt, but a little lighter. She grabbed a small two-toned bag with a strap that could be slung over one shoulder or tucked away so the bag was a clutch, and painted her nails a poppy, metallic teal, alternating each nail with a muted jade green that contrasted piercingly with her neutral clothing colours. She put on faint makeup, just highlighting her features rather than adding anything—a touch of eyeliner here, a hint of lip gloss there. Opting to go jewelry-less, Dawn combed her hair until it lay in sleek, billowing waves down her back. Checking over her appearance one more time, Dawn saw that it was nine already, and went to eat breakfast.

Back in his room, Paul got ready for the day, but unwilling to move just yet, he lay on the bed. That image of Dawn when they woke up was practically seared into his eyes. Rubbing his eyes as if that would get rid of the memory, Paul turned over. The phone rang then, and he picked it up.

"Hello?" Paul called.

"Paulie!" Ursula's unmistakable voice screeched back at him. "I just got the pearls you sent me by Pidgeot service!"

"Did you like them?" Paul asked.

He could almost hear Ursula pout. "I liked them…but I admit, they were kind of tacky. I mean, wearing pearls that big is just kind of like showing off, which, is, like, _so_ not in season right now. Last year, that would've been fine."

Paul rubbed his temples. A headache was forming. "I'm sure that trend will come around again. You can wear them then," he told her, doing his best to sound reassuring, though Ursula's rants about what was in season or not might as well have been gibberish to him. Who cared that much anyway? It was fine to care about how you looked—nobody wanted to go out in the morning looking like a dump—but taking it to such levels was kind of extreme, wasn't it? Paul wondered if Dawn ever cared about whether the stuff she wore was in season or not. It didn't sound like her. Then again, he didn't really know her that well, so how could he know? He made a mental note to ask May about it when he had time.

"He-llooooo?" Ursula asked. "Paulie, you there?"

Paul snapped out of his daze. "Uh, yeah. Sorry."

Ursula sighed. "Honestly, have a larger attention span! So, what did you do last night?"

Did this woman have to know every detail of his life? "I was out at dinner with Dawn and the other people she invited to the special box for the Swan Lake premiere," Paul replied.

"You were at dinner with Dawn? Hah! I bet Dee-Dee looked like a total slut!" Ursula screeched.

Paul flinched, taken aback by her language. Ursula didn't say stuff like that much—it wasn't good for her social image.

"No, actually, Dawn looked pretty great," Paul said, then slapped himself internally for saying that.

Ursula was silent. "I'm sorry? There's no way that b**ch—excuse my language—can look good," she said, as if Paul had made a mistake and she was talking to a small child.

"Maybe I'm a bad judge of stuff like that, but May, Zoey and Misty all though she looked good too," Paul said.

When Ursula talked again, her voice was a hiss. "We'll never talk about this again."

Paul was about to reply when he realized that Ursula had already hung up. He let out a long breath. How the hell had he gotten into this mess?

* * *

Dawn was at the interview. The interviewer was a middle-aged woman who obviously had no idea what she was talking about, but she tried to keep herself under control. At first, all the large cameras had creeped her out a bit, but she kept calm and answered the questions as best as she could.

"So, Miss Berlitz, I understand that you were in competition with Miss Rosa of Unova for the leading roles of the two swans, correct?"

Dawn smiled, hands folded demurely in her lap. "That's right. Rosa's a really sweet girl—it was kind of a shame she didn't get the role, but I'm glad she had her role as Princess Florine in _Sleeping Beauty_ to fall back on."

The interviewer took a breath. "While we are on the topic of the _Sleeping Beauty_, have you ever done the famous Rose Adagio before?"

"Yes, I have done it, actually. It was at Port University in Canalave City, when I was nineteen. We were doing a student presentation of the ballet, and I was Aurora. I'm sure I wasn't all that good at the Rose Adagio, as it's extremely difficult, but I managed to pull it off anyway," Dawn replied.

"You are playing shows all over Eastern Sinnoh, correct?"

"Yes," Dawn answered. "Our last show is in Sunyshore City, and if there is more demand for the show, we will consider extending to Western Sinnoh."

The interviewer nodded, before continuing to ask Dawn questions. When they were done, Dawn thankfully headed out of the studio to eat lunch at a small café across the street.

She ordered a sandwich and some bacon with a cup of coffee, not having much of an appetite. After her order came, she spotted Paul entering the café and waved him over.

He sat across from her at the small table, looking distracted.

Paul ordered a bagel and a muffin. She tried to strike up a conversation, but Paul was zoning out, and eventually Dawn just gave up, and they ate slowly in silence.

"You're not like her, you know," Paul said. His gaze was fixated on his bagel.

Dawn was startled into almost spilling her coffee. "Not like who?"

Paul looked up briefly, then back down again. "Ursula. My girlfriend." He said the word "girlfriend" like it tasted bitter, spitting it out. "Normally, she would've pestered me until I left, even if I never answered." At this, Paul looked up, giving Dawn a rare smile.

"She's a jerk," Dawn stated plainly.

"A jerk that's my girlfriend," Paul replied.

"How did that even happen? You don't look like somebody who would like her."

Paul sighed, before proceeding to tell Dawn the whole story. When he finished, Dawn was shocked.

"I didn't think you were so much of a…a pushover," Dawn said.

Paul looked at her as if she'd just grown four more arms. "Excuse me?"

Dawn appeared sheepish at this. "For lack of a better term, I mean. Like, if you don't like Ursula, then dump her. Who gives a damn whether it's bad for business relations? I bet her parents think she's just as much of a brat as you do."

Paul looked at her. "I prefer that to what people normally give me when they hear this story, actually," he stated.

"What's that?" Dawn asked, curious.

Paul held her gaze. "Pity."

Dawn's eyes didn't soften like he thought they would. "You don't need pity."

Paul's eyes bored into hers for a moment, drowning in the blue of them, before in one sudden, fluidly powerful motion, he reached out, pulled Dawn to him, and kissed her. The kiss wasn't gentle, but Dawn didn't need it to be. As a matter of fact, neither of them wanted it to be gentle. They were stronger than that.

Paul pulled away. Dawn's breathing had sped up, and he found out that his had too. His mind whirled, a mixture of thoughts mostly consisting of _What did I just do I have a girlfriend_, but there was a mixture of _Oh damn, that felt good_ in there.

Dawn looked at him, then down at their half-finished lunch. Then back up again. Then down. The next time she looked up, Paul caught her eyes and held them.

Dawn's eyebrows raised a bit at the ends. "You have Ursula," she reminded him. "A girlfriend you can't get rid of."

Paul sighed, forcing his pulse to steady. "I know," he muttered.

Dawn took another bite of her sandwich. They finished eating in silence, the only contact happening when Dawn tried to pay the bill for both of them. Paul had gripped her wrist, a type of contact he never would've made before that lunch, and paid the bill, trying his best to ignore the way Dawn shivered at his touch. They left the café together, Dawn going left towards the Stardust Theatre, Paul going right.

Dawn was distracted all through practice. Her body remembered the dancing and did it perfectly, but her brain wandered. Leaving the theatre, Dawn had dinner in her room at the hotel, not bothering to taste the food. Taking a long, cold shower to clear her head, Dawn slept early, suddenly exhausted despite the battle that was raging inside her head. She didn't bother with blankets or pillows, curling up on the bare sheets, her hair spilling all over the place. One azure curl stubbornly attached itself to her eye, and Dawn, brushing it away, opened her eyes to find herself staring at the couch where Paul had slept. Dawn would've turned away, but sleep crashed over her suddenly, drowning her in a sea of dreamless oblivion.

* * *

That's done! I think this chapter was a little shorter than the other ones…oh well! There was extreme Ikarishipping in this chapter! And sorry about the use of language in Ursula's dialogue, I just think that's what a bratty character like her would say. ^^

Star xx


	4. Chapter 4

**The Marionette**

**Chapter Three: Blue Lollipops**

Here is the third chapter of The Marionette! I was originally going to have this tie into my other Contestshipping story, Minor, but since I deleted that (it was crap) this story will proceed as normal. Yay.

I apologize for the huge gap between updates, especially as I have no excuse this time, unlike before. So, I have something to ask you:

WHO'S GOING TO WATCH THE CITY OF BONES? _

My friends and I are in TMI fever right now. I hope it doesn't suck. Like, really hope. *Crosses fingers* And I don't remember saying this in the last chapter, but what I have dubbed Dawn's "interview outfit" now has a link on my profile.

Disclaimer: Young man—er,lady—er, man—er, whoever you are—this is _FanFiction_. If I owned any of this, I probably wouldn't be writing right now.

* * *

Dawn woke up, suddenly and astonishingly aware of the cool sheets against her skin, the cotton of her nightgown, usually comfortable, now scratchy against her skin. Her vision blurred a bit, head spinning as she sat up. Her thick hair was still damp from last night. Reaching over, Dawn checked the clock. It was five thirty A.M. There would be no use in trying to fall asleep again, though Dawn was somehow exhausted enough to be able to collapse right there on the cold floor of her room.

Somewhat shakily, Dawn got up and headed to her bathroom for a quick, hot shower to clear her head. At the sink, she brushed her teeth, before staring at herself in the mirror. She couldn't remember the last time she'd looked this bad—Dawn's eyes were almost always bag-proof, but she had a theory that because of that, her eyes actually chose to torment her with leaving dark rings under them as proof of stressful nights and not just sleepless nights. Another part of her theory was that whenever her morning insurance failed, it always looked extra bad, as if to compensate for all those times that she should've looked horrible but didn't. This morning was no different. Her face was a chalky off-white, making the shadows stand out even more. Her hair was tangled, a mess, her general appearance having none of its usual morning radiance. Dawn's lips were even white as well, as if she had fainted, and her blue eyes were looking something more towards a stormy gray-black.

In short, Dawn looked like a hung-over mess.

Sighing, she washed her face and changed into a cream-coloured sweater and black leggings with knee-high winter boots, before going over to the mirror and grabbing her makeup. She was going to have to work extra hard to cover up the evidence.

After applying makeup until her face resembled a satisfying degree of "I actually slept last night and wasn't stressed out at all", Dawn went for some breakfast. She didn't have an appetite, instead ordering a large mug of hot chocolate and marmalade toast. Finishing quickly, Dawn went back to her hotel room. She didn't have any plans except to practice, and it was too early in the morning—barely past seven. The members of _Swan Lake_ could travel on their own time instead of moving as a group—they were playing shows in Solaceon Town and Veilstone City, as well as Hearthome, Pastoria, and the final show in Sunyshore to boot after Snowpoint. There had been rumours of demands for shows west of Mount Coronet, but that was still up for debate. Their next show, in Solaceon Town, wouldn't occur for a week, but some dancers had already left for Celestic Town, and from there, en route to Solaceon by way of blimp or the slower, though much less expensive Coronet Train, which ferried people back and forth through Mount Coronet, Snowpoint City, Eterna City, and Celestic Town, before ending at the crossing of Route 208 and 207. Some trainers, confident in the ability of their pokemon and the fact that as far as the rest of the world was concerned, it was early June, braved the blizzards to actually travel by foot, skis, or some other form of personal transportation all the way to Celestic Town through the sometimes waist-deep snow.

Sitting on her bed, Dawn thought about her plans. She didn't have any arrangements until the Solaceon show, so her mind wandered back, as it inevitably would, however late, to that little impromptu meeting yesterday, and what it had led to. Tearing her mind away from the thoughts, Dawn suddenly experienced an intense, almost suffocating claustrophobia, and shot up from her bed with only one thought—_to get away from here._

She tore off her sweater and leggings with an almost desperate air—casual wear like that wouldn't do for the wear and tear of travel—and slid into a white, sleeveless top with a rounded neckline and decorative ruffles around her shoulders, dark blue bootcut jeans, and heeled, soft gray ankle boots with the darkest crimson lipstick she could find. Sliding down to the floor beside her suitcase, Dawn's fingers moved for her, her brain smoothly and eloquently comprehending what she was doing but feeling no inclination to assist as she started to pack. She hadn't really taken out much during her stay here, so it was fairly easy to pack, mostly just putting away clothes. By nine, Dawn had checked and double checked her hotel room for any sign of leftover items she had missed, confirmed that there were none, and grabbed her red trenchcoat, heading out the hotel. At the corner there was a Pidgeot Service office, and Dawn stepped inside, heading for the front desk.

"Good morning, Miss Berlitz, how may we help you?" The girl there, a black-haired, twenty-something young woman with frameless glasses and a name tag that read _Eden _asked Dawn.

Dawn blinked, unused to people she hadn't met knowing her name, even though that interview with Sinnoh Now had to have made her quite famous by now. Shaking it off, she said politely: "I'd like to check the Coronet Train times, please."

Eden clicked something on her sleek black laptop, before turning to Dawn. "The first train leaves today at eleven thirty in the morning, and will arrive in Celestic Town the day after tomorrow with an estimated arrival time of around one in the afternoon. Is that acceptable?"

Dawn nodded. "Yes, thank you. Ticket for one, please."

Eden swiveled the laptop around. "What kind of service would you like?"

Dawn looked at the laptop. There were five kinds of services, ranging from a simple reclining seat similar to the one on an economy-class airplane with a window and tray, which cost the least and was labeled as _Egg_, to a small room with one single bed, a small bedside table, and nothing else labeled as _Pidgey_, to a slightly larger room with a double bed, an eating table, a bedside table, and a small window called _Pidgeotto_, to a rather large room with an equally large bed and window, an eating and bedside table, and a dressing mirror labeled as _Pidgeot, _and finally a rather unique room which was large and held two bunk beds (therefore four beds) and two extra platform beds that could be flipped down from where they were latched to the walls, obviously for family use, which was labeled _Shiny_. Each of the services except for _Egg_ offered a private bathroom, with size and facilities differing depending on the service. Of course, _Egg_ was cheapest, while _Shiny_ was most expensive, with the rest somewhere in-between. Dawn examined the prices and rooms carefully, before deciding on _Pidgeotto_.

"I'd would like _Pidgeotto_, please," Dawn said to Eden, whose glasses caught the light and flashed as she swiveled her head back down to the laptop. Typing something in, Eden printed out a ticket and gave it to Dawn.

"You are in car number eight, room 13. Have a comfortable and safe trip!"

Dawn thanked Eden and paid, and arranged to have her costumes for the ballets sent to the Eclipse Theatre in Solaceon Town, where they would be kept in pristine condition until she arrived and her luggage pre-stored on the Coronet Train so she could pick it up upon arrival in Celestic Town.

It was a short distance to the Coronet Train Station, so Dawn walked there. There wasn't any snow today, the white sky clear with Snowpoint's pale sun shining coldly down, illuminating the white snow until it hurt your eyes. The fresh, icy air stung as she breathed it in, and she shook her hair out, letting it hang at her back.

Upon arriving at the Station, Dawn checked her ticket in. It was early—barely ten—but the ticket stations were working, with friendly attendants stationed there, who accepted her ticket, ripping off a small square, before one directed her to where the train was stationed. Some people, eager to start their journey, were already inside making themselves comfortable, and Dawn stepped inside car number eight, heeled feet making no noise on the softly carpeted floor. Down the hall, she found her room, which had a Pidgeotto holding a placard that read _Room 13 _carved expertly into a smooth block of wood that was placed above the door. Smiling to herself at this, Dawn took her card key, which an attendant had given her, out of her pocket, and slid it into the slot. The light flashed green, and Dawn swung the door open to reveal her room. It was just like the pictures on Eden's laptop, and locking the door behind her, she sat down on the bed.

There, for a brief, vague instant, Dawn flashed back to the day before, flashed back to the feeling of—

—_Stop it,_ Dawn ordered herself. _Stop thinking about that, dammit!_ Dawn was shocked at herself—she never used what could be considered even slightly foul language. Mentally, Dawn blocked out the last word, and rubbed her temples. She hated bad language. So what was she doing, using it now?

Lying down on the bed and rolling over onto her side, Dawn took a deep breath in and let it out in a rush of air, and promised herself that she would never see Paul again.

* * *

Paul was woken up by a severe banging on his door. He didn't really remember coming back to his room last night or falling asleep, but since he'd never touched a drop of alcohol or other mind-addling substances in his life and never would, he supposed he had, under lucid circumstances, actually done that. _Selective amnesia?_ Of course, yesterday had been hardly lucid, considering first the call with Ursula, and then—

_Oh holy crap._

Torn out of his thoughts once again by the banging on his door, Paul got up and walked over to the living room, any drowsiness now completely chased away, opening the door to reveal a panicky, raging May, a Zoey that was trying to keep both herself and May calm, a Drew who was, for once in his life, not smirking, a Kenny who stood behind Zoey, and further behind them, Misty and Ash, who were just…there.

Judging from May's expression, Paul guessed that the violent abuse of his hotel room door had been done by her.

"What is it?" Paul asked.

He was not prepared for the rant that came next.

"_Why_, in the name of God, Paul, did you sleep in so late? Especially when my poor baby Dawn is missing, and I'm _sure_ it had something to do with you, you no-good—"

Paul cut May off abruptly. "It is not late, and what's all this about Dawn missing?"

Drew snickered. "It's half past ten, sucker. As for the rest…" Drew's face darkened. "Misty should explain that. She's probably the most coherent right now."

May glared at Drew. "I am perfectly capable of explaining myself, thankyouverymuch!"

Drew flicked his hair, before pulling May backwards and Misty forwards in one smooth move.

Paul sighed. It seemed that ever since middle school, there had been some sort of eternal feud between Drew and May, like it was their mission in life to get ticked off at each other.

"Well, come in. You're blocking the hallway," Paul said, widening the door so they could all file in together.

They were in the living room, and Misty was explaining everything.

"So, May went to find Dawn today, because she wanted to go shopping, but nobody answered the door when she knocked, and when she went down to the front desk to ask, they said that Dawn had checked out around nine this morning, and the hotel doorman said he saw her heading for the Pidgeot Service office down the block and around with luggage. Naturally, May freaked, grabbed all of us while babbling hysterically, and then we figured out that Dawn wasn't going to leave Snowpoint until the day after tomorrow, so something must've happened to make her want to leave. And since none of us had seen her yesterday, and after questioning Barry, who only saw Dawn for a little while yesterday morning and certainly didn't do anything, because Dawn had her interview right after and was perfectly fine with that, we went to the Stardust Theatre, where a stagehand told us that their precious _Mademoiselle Berlitz_ was a bit distant during practice yesterday, when she's normally so focused. Then, we concluded that something must've happened between the interview and practice, so we went to the Sinnoh Now reporter, who said Dawn was fine exiting the interview and that she even saw her going across the street to a little restaurant for lunch. So we headed to the restaurant, where they all said that _you_ had had lunch with Dawn there. Upon hearing this, May went ballistic again and essentially became a crazed, bloodthirsty axe-murderer that Drew could no longer restrain and dragged the lot of us back here to your room." Misty said matter-of-factly.

Paul shifted his gaze to May, who was curled up, rocking on the couch and muttering things like _My poor baby Dawn_ and _What the hell I'll kill that douchebag_ and several other choice expletives that would make the rating of this story rise considerably higher, occasionally lifting her head up to shoot Paul her famous evil eye, while Drew patted her back and gave Paul sympathetic glances.

Rolling his eyes, Paul turned back to the rest of them. "So?"

"So, you must've done something to Dawn to make her leave in such a hurry," said Kenny.

"I didn't do anything," Paul said, lying through his teeth. If he said a word of what happened yesterday, May would have his head impaled on a pike, and he was pretty sure Ursula would too, if she ever found out. And Barry too, unless he was already off to stalk Dawn to wherever she had gallivanted off to.

"Liar! Psychological murderer!" May lunged at Paul, but Drew managed to restrain her.

Paul met the others' gazes, and he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. Dawn may have been able to see through his lies, but they all came from similar large families, and they could all see through a lie the way a hawk focuses on a mouse.

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Fine. I kissed her, okay?"

He took in their reactions: Zoey clapped a hand to her mouth, Kenny recoiled, Misty's eyes widened, Ash choked on air and doubled forward, May looked more furious than ever, while Drew held a restraining arm around May's waist and gaped at Paul.

Zoey was the first one to make a sound. "Did—did she—um, you know—kiss back?"

Paul remembered the impromptu meeting. "I think so, but I'm not sure."

Ash made a noise somewhere between disbelief and a hairball. "You sure get around, huh?"

Paul glared at Ash, but was interrupted by Drew.

"Well, if she kissed you back, then I'm sure it must've been fine with her, and that could explain her odd behaviour at practice, but why would she leave?" Drew said, frowning.

Paul sat down. This was going to take a lot of explaining.

He explained to them about Ursula being his girlfriend even though he didn't like her at all and about how he couldn't break up with her because of the stupid business relations, and about how Dawn knew that and probably felt conflicted, which might've been why she left so early, and when he finished, they were all looking at him with varying emotions.

Finally, Drew leaned back. "Man, Dawn was kind of right. You shouldn't let Ursula push you around like that. It's not like you'll go bankrupt overnight if you two break up, anyway, so why put up with her? You do what you want, when you feel like it. If Ursula is really as infatuated with you as you've said she is, then she should understand if you two break up, no matter how bratty and annoying she is."

May swatted Drew on the arm. "Mr. Rose, the whole reason why she can't understand is because she's a spoiled brat. Trust me, I knew her back in middle school, and she has no unselfish virtues or maturity whatsoever. She's, like, your generic high school drama popular girl, who happens to be grown up and out of university."

With May and Drew arguing quietly, Zoey and Kenny were quick to follow suit, dissolving into a whispered conversation. Strangely, it was Ash who was the voice of reason this time.

"Well, if Dawn's gone already, it's not like we can do anything about it. We'll just…have to catch her later, I guess," Ash reasoned.

"_Wait_!" Misty cried, startling everybody. "Ash, you said _if_ she's gone already. When does her train leave?"

Kenny checked his watch. "Eleven thirty, and it's barely eleven right now. We need to hurry, but if we don't have tickets, we can't get through."

Zoey shook her head. "We'll buy them at Pidgeot Service. Come on, let's go!"

They filed down to the Pidgeot Service office, where the receptionist, Eden, shook her head and informed them that all the tickets for the eleven-thirty train had sold out since ten this morning. Hearing that, they left the office and ran down to the Coronet Train tracks outside the station, waiting expectantly for the train to leave.

* * *

Paul leaned against the rails barring the tracks. Zoey and Kenny were on a public bench, talking quietly amongst themselves, while May tapped her foot impatiently, with Drew beside her. Misty and Ash were a little ways off to the right of Paul, holding tightly onto the rails and staring at the empty tracks expectantly.

A train came and passed, the squealing noise and massive rush of wind that came with it causing Paul to grip onto the rails tightly, feeling his hair and clothes being blown every which way while he dug his feet into the ground.

Finally, the eleven thirty Coronet Train started moving. Paul looked expectantly—it was still moving rather slowly, having yet to pick up to a faster speed. He counted the numbers that were printed onto the trains cars. Sometimes, faces were peering out the windows while the train kick-started itself. Five, six, seven, eight.

He almost missed it, but then Drew shouted something he couldn't make sense of, and then he saw her.

Dawn.

She was standing in front of her window, hair behind her, face pale and her eyes big and dark and blue. Her eyes flashed into his, and Paul swore his breath stopped as she held his gaze, and he knew that she saw him, really saw him, saw him gripping the rails, saw his own eyes as they flashed into hers, and that moment, when they were parallel, lasted forever.

But then, too soon, all too soon, she was gone, ripped away by the ever-growing speed of the train, and his body whipped around faster than he ever knew it could and he found her gaze again, and drowned in blue, blue, blue as she was carried farther and farther away from him, until the blue was gone and replaced by white and gray and black, and they were colours that he hadn't paid attention to before, but now they burned into his mind, because they were so cold, and so empty he couldn't breathe again, but the train was gone, and it took the blue of Dawn with it, and the wind whistled past as if signalling a passing, mocking him for all that he had just a moment ago, before that moment passed and the wind mocked him now for all that he had lost.

Paul turned around and walked, not knowing where he was going and not knowing if it mattered. He searched for blue, but the world seemed to be every single shade except for blue. Even the sky, such a bright blue everywhere else, was cold and bleakly white here. And he stopped and stood still suddenly, feeling that, in that instant, he could comprehend the answer to everything. But like the blue, that instant passed and he was left not knowing anything again, and he sighed, and kicked a stone that was as cruelly not blue as the rest of the world. A small brown-haired child passed him, and through some trick of the light, her coat appeared to be light blue, but as he walked closer, it was actually a light shade of green.

"Are you okay, Mister?" Paul turned around to find that very child looking up at him.

"Yes, I'm fine," Paul said.

The child tilted her head. "You don't _look_ fine. You look like something's bothering you."

Paul shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he told her.

Stubbornly, the child looked down her nose at Paul, an impressive feat considering she was around half his height.

"I can worry about whatever I want, Mister," the child announced. Attitude changing abruptly, she took a lollipop out of her pocket.

"Do you want it, Mister? I just got it for free as a sample from a candy shop. A good blue lollipop will make you just fine," she said, holding it out to Paul.

Paul looked at the lollipop. It was the exact same shade of blue as Dawn's eyes, and in that instant, he had everything.

Looking back at the girl, Paul shook his head. "No, thank you. I think I'm already fine."

She grinned. "See? Now you're fine! Told you so!" She chirped smugly, before skipping down the sidewalk, heedless of the icy patches.

Paul watched her for a while, before continuing to walk down the street, stopping at a candy shop. A bowl with a tag reading "samples" was propped outside, filled to the brim with blue lollipops. He reached inside and took one, the clear plastic cover crinkling as he did so. Putting it in his jacket pocket, Paul continued to walk, hands in his pockets.

And inside one pocket, his hand was closing around a certain blue lollipop.

* * *

This is done! And I haven't eaten anything since I woke up….ah, well. Sometimes being a human camel helps.

Hope you liked it! And yes, May was a furious serial killer for most of this. What? Don't judge me. Those Mays are fun to write.


End file.
